The Valentine's Day Affair
by Solo's Girl
Summary: Illya's first Valentines Day in America has him flustered, amused and intriged by a secret admirer. This is a re-post. Hope you enjoy!


American's celebrate the strangest holidays. First it was the one called Thanksgiving. Odd idea but he couldn't argue about the food. Then came Christmas and all its trimmings and tenderness. New Years was another excuse to party. But this one had him totally befuddled.

Illya walked to work. He watched couples out having early breakfast together, arms linked together looking at each other with gooey expressions. He shook his head as he stopped in front of a sweet shop window decorated with bright red paper cut outs of hearts and little cut-outs of cupids with their arrows drawn. Everywhere he looked people had on red shirts, red ties, red socks, red scarves and he shuttered to think of how many pairs of red panties were hidden under blue jeans and miniskirts.

The Russian fixed the collar of his black turtleneck and pulled the lapels of his black coat up around his neck.

Napoleon walked thru the front door of Del Floria's Tailor Shop. The old man behind the counter looked up, shook his head and smiled. Napoleon's arms were loaded down with about two dozen red long stemmed roses each carefully wrapped in white tissue and tied with a red ribbon.

"What's this Napoleon.." Bill said, "No candy?"

Solo smiled and shifted all of the flowers into one arm. He lifted the flap of his survival bag and showed the old man some two or so dozen mini boxes of candy, all wrapped in beautiful white wrapping with red trim.

"Some get candy," Solo said, he winked, "Others get a rose. Happy Valentine's Day, Mr. Del Floria."

Solo made his way into U.N.C.L.E. Headquarters.

Once again the door to the tailor shop opened and the blond haired Russian walked in. He saw Del Floria smile trying to contain a laugh. Illya quickly looked at his attire. He brushed his hand across his hair in case it was windblown. He looked at the man behind the counter.

"Is something wrong, Mr. Del Floria?" he asked confused.

"Not at all," the man said, "And don't take this the wrong way. It's Valentine's day..And you of all people are the only one not wearing red."

Illya made a small laugh. The same thought had occurred to him on the way in. He playfully shrugged his shoulders.

"Go figure," Kuryakin said, "I'm really having trouble with these American holidays. Particularly this one. If love is supposed to be someone's strongest emotion why celebrate it only once a year? And just from what I have observed this morning, I'm starting to think it was invented by one of Napoleon's relatives."

Del Floria laughed out loud. He reached up and wiped the tears from his eyes. Illya started to walk away.

"Agent Kuryakin," Bill called out.

Illya turned around. Del Floria motioned him back to the counter.

"Just one thing," he said, "This really is a special holiday especially for the girls. A sincere compliment or just a simple "Happy Valentine's Day" would be nice. If there is any special one, a kiss on the cheek or the hand. And don't be surprised if they approach you first."

He gave the young agent a pat on the arm, and nudged him back towards the fitting room.

Illya stepped into reception. He smiled

Jessica was behind her desk. Dressed in her regular black and yellow UNCLE clothes, she wore a brilliant red satin ribbon tied around her hair and finished in a cute bow on the side. She smiled at him as he approached the desk.

Illya stepped up to the side of the desk. Jessica picked up his badge and stood up to pin it on him. Illya made a quick scan if the room. All clear. He gave her a kiss on the cheek. His face blushed.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Miss Williams," he said.

Jessica reached over to her desk and picked up a beautiful rose, handing it to him.

"Happy Valentine's Day to you also," she blushed and kissed his cheek in return, "Mr. Kuryakin."

Illya went to his office. He sat back in his chair and sniffed the roses' scent. He closed his eyes and sat back thinking about the people knew here in this strange country. He had lived and worked in Russia, Britain, France, Germany, but nothing had prepared him for life in America. He laid the flower on the desk and went down to supply to find something to put it in.

It was a relatively quiet day. There was paperwork to do, files to be sorted and re-filed, weapons inspection, and of course a workout in the gym. And after each activity, Kuryakin returned to his office and a surprise.

It seemed that every time he came back some new surprise was waiting on his desk. His rose had gone from one to eight, there were boxes of candy and cards on his desk. He returned from the firing range to find a small glass box, adorned with a single peacock feather and bow, with some sort of powder inside. He cautiously opened it and dipped the tip of his finger in it. Honey dust! Things were really starting to get interesting now.

He met Napoleon down in the cafeteria for lunch. Solo leaned against the table, his elbow resting on the edge, his chin in the ball of his hand. He sat quietly picking at his food. Kuryakin sat down opposite him.

"Trying a new tactic to get a Valentine date?" Kuryakin asked, "That old puppy dog look I believe it's called."

"I think I'm losing my touch, Illya," Napoleon said, he picked at his food once more.

"I doubt that. It's just that all the girls here know you. Some better than others. They're just not going to be taken in by you smooth tactics. Did you ever think about just being Napoleon? Not Napoleon Solo the suave agent and lady killer, but Napoleon, the guy who likes….what do you like? I mean other then sex?"

Several heads at the next table turned and looked in their direction. Solo pressed his hands over his face.

"Will you keep it down," Solo whispered.

Illya made a small chuckle.

"I like a lot of things…Music, art, warm fireplaces. I love walking around New York after a warm summer rain. Everything smells so clean. I like going to the theatre, horseback riding in Central Park."

"There you go then," Illya said, "Try some of those with a date."

"Dating tips from you are something I really don't need," Napoleon said.

A voice somewhere across the room said "couldn't hurt" but Solo couldn't tell exactly where it came from.

The two men finished up their lunch.

Kuryakin went down to the gym to work out. First judo, then he went into the large open area to practice on the bars.

The nimble Russian sprinted across the mats and made several effortless flips, coming to a stop at the end of the padding, He charged once more, hit the springboard and took on the uneven bars. A perfect dismount and landing. Illya turned around to get his towel and saw Jessica standing next to mats, his towel in one hand, a thermos bottle of crisp cool water in the other. He walked over to her.

"That was amazing," she said, "So graceful but still very…." Her face blushed. "I saw you thru the window on my way down to get coffee. Thought you might need some water."

Jessica handed him the bottle and watched him take a drink. She handed him the towel and he wrapped it around his neck. His hand reached up and pushed his sweaty blond bangs back from his forehead.

"Thank you for the water," he said slightly breathless, "Can I ask you a question, Jessica?"

"Certainly," she said leaning against the long wooden beam.

Illya suddenly picked her up and sat her on the beam. He folded his arms across it next to her, took another drink and looked at her.

"You like me, don't you?" he asked.

"Of course I like you, what a silly question."

"No honestly. You really like me. But I can't figure out why exactly."

Jessica smiled. That was his Russian heart talking to her. She reached over and brushed her fingers against his wet hair. He continued to look at her.

"Honestly? I love those blue eyes. The pouty lip and blond hair. I like the fact that you love pizza's and Jazz music. I like the way you play the Balalaika. I like the way you dress, the sound of your voice, the fact that you are who you are. You don't try to put on airs or try to be something you're not. Too many of those kind here in New York. Take this morning for instance. A simple kiss on the cheek and greeting for the day. You didn't come in showering gifts on people. I have more if you like…"

She saw the blond pull his bottom lip in and hold it a moment. He smiled at her. To his surprise she leaned over and kissed his forehead. He glanced at the clock.

"If nothing comes up in the next few hours," he said, "Would you like to get a pizza and catch a movie tonight?"

"Sounds perfect," Jessica said, "Meet you outside at five?"

"Sounds perfect," Illya said smiling. He helped her off the beam.

Jessica watched him walk off towards the locker room. Yes indeed there was so much more about the Russian to like. Her cheek blushed with fire and she headed back to reception.

Napoleon was coming into the gym as Illya was coming out of the showers. The American took off his jacket and tie, hanging them in his locker. He watched as his partner came over towards the bench.

"Must have been some really cold water," Solo said, giving his friend a nod.

Kuryakin looked down. He quickly tried to hide the things his body was doing on its own. And the skimpy little towel was no help. The blond slipped on his briefs and pants under the towel. He stood to finish dressing.

"She's only seventeen you know," Solo said.

"Who?"

"Who indeed….Jessica Williams..that's who."

"I know that. Sweet girl..Not at all like some of the others here."

Illya tucked in his shirt and slipped his jacket on. He checked his hair in the small mirror inside the locker. He went back to his office to wait out the day.

Ten till five. Finally. Illya checked his clothes once more. Checked his hair, shoved a stick of peppermint gum in his mouth just to play it safe and started getting his office in order to leave. There was a knock on the door and Napoleon walked in.

Solo stopped short when he saw the Russian's office. Piled on the filing cabinet were about fourteen red roses. All wrapped in white tissue with red ribbons. On the desk were almost as many small boxes of candy. He looked at his partner. Illya picked up one of the boxes and tossed it to him.

"Enjoy," Illya said, "I don't know why so many women in this building felt compelled to give me any presents. I've never done anything to lead them on."

Kuryakin looked at his partner's expression. He looked at the flowers, back at Napoleon then at the boxes of candy. Illya fought to hold his smile.

Napoleon had given these to the ladies of U.N.C.L.E. They had turned around a bestowed them on the handsome Russian.

"Have a good night, Napoleon," Kuryakin said walking past his partner.

Jessica was standing inside the tailor shop talking to Bill when Illya came out of the fitting room. He heard them talking as he stepped thru the curtain. Kuryakin walked over to the counter.

"Illya do you mind if we stop by my place before we go to the movie? It's only a few blocks" Jessica said, "I don't want to wear this out. I look like a bumble-bee."

Bill laughed softly as did Illya.

"Certainly," Illya said, "No problem with that. Good night Mr. Del Floria."

Jessica said her good night also to the front man. Bill watched them walk up the short steps and head off down the street.

To save some time they went ahead and ate at the little shop near her apartment. Then on to her place.

They walked into Jessica's apartment. Illya nearly stepped on his own chin. It was large, airy and beautiful. How could a seventeen year old have an apartment like this? He looked around as she started towards the bedroom.

"You can take your coat off if you want," she said, "I'll hurry though."

He watched her slip into the room and shut the door behind her. Kuryakin took off his coat, carefully laying it across the sofa arm. He sat down. But when he leaned against his coat, his side was poked by the little glass box. He reached in his pocket and took it out.

Jessica walked into the room. Her form fitting blue-jeans tapered at her ankles, she wore a bright red button down oxford with the shirttails out. She was hooking a wide black leather belt around her waist as she came closer.

"Hope this is alright," she said.

She looked up to see Illya staring at her. A quirky smile on his face. She wasn't sure, but Jess would have sworn she saw his nose twitch like a rabbit. He took a deep breath and cleared his throat.

"It's fine. Really cute, I like it," he said, nearly dropping the box.

She blushed and walked over sitting next to him on the sofa.

"What have you got there?" she asked reaching towards the box.

Illya was still staring at her.

"Ah, honey dust."

"Honey dust? What in the world is it for?"

Illya felt his temperature elevate. His cheeks blushed. Jess saw the reaction and suddenly realized it must be for something…

"Illya Kuryakin!" she said in embarrassed surprise.

"No you don't understand," he said flustered, "This was left in my office…I didn't bring it for..You have to believe me.."

Jessica laughed. She leaned against him giving his arm a squeeze. Illya felt relaxed once more. He sat the box on the table and opened it.

"Give me your hand," he said.

Jessica laid her hand gently in his. She watched him delicately touch the tips of the feather into the dust.

"Close your eyes."

She closed her eyes. The young woman trembled as she felt the wonderful powder brush against the top of her hand. She made a small gasp as he gently moved the feather across her sensitive skin. She felt him lay her hand on the sofa.

Illya's hand reached up and carefully moved her head to the side. She felt him move on the sofa. Suddenly the soft feather with the velvety dust brushed the side of her neck. Jessica jumped at the wonderful sensation. Illya watched her body's reaction to the dust.

Once again the feather brushed her neck, softly across her throat and her cheek. Jessica reached up and touched his hand. She opened her eyes to see his to sparkling blues looking at her. A tear softly fell on her cheek. He brushed it away.

"Let me try," she said reaching for the feather.

Illya gave her the peacock feather and leaned back on the sofa. He gasped with delight at the first stoke against his skin. Jessica teased his neck and throat with the velvety smooth dust. Kuryakin felt his breath catch in his throat as the soft tickle flicked his ear. He opened his eyes and looked at her.

"Maybe we better stop," he said sadly, "Things might get a bit out of hand."

Jessica looked at him, her expression that of disappointment. She nodded her head and laid the feather back on the small table next to the box. Illya noticed the look. The gears in his brain began to grind. He leaned forward to close the box.

"I don't know how you got that into my office without me seeing you though," he said casually.

"You were down at the firing range…"

Jessica looked at him. A wide smile crossed Illya's face.

He closed the tiny box and tied the feather back down on the top. He slid it to the center of the table and sat back looking at this hard to figure out young woman. He took her hands and looked into her eyes.

"Maybe one day, who knows," Illya said, his fingers brushing her cheek, "We may celebrate the Greatest Valentine's day ever. Something to top any even Napoleon has seen! But for now.."

He leaned towards her and kissed her. His lips softly caressed hers and she savored the moment. It was a simple kiss but one given in earnest. She sat back and slowly opened her eyes. Jessica smiled at him.

"I think I just figure out what I like the most you, Illya," she said.

"What would that be?"

She took a deep breath, sighed and smiled at the handsome Russian.

"Absolutely everything."

_**Happy Valentine's Day!**_


End file.
